Chapter 4
Draco’s POV
Draco stood in a cobblestone alleyway, clutching Granger to his chest. Granger’s wand apparated them to a darkened street lined with few lampposts. The light from one illuminated the sign posted on the building at the entrance to the cross street.
Aubrey Walk
‘ So they ended up somewhere in Kensington? Figures Granger would live with the Muggles ,’ Draco thought. He looked down at the witch in his arms, her eyes hooded and glazed. He rolled his eyes. “Enough of this, Granger.”
Draco looked around at the townhouses surrounding them, catching a glimpse of orange in a window down the street. He thought he could hear the monster cat hissing at him from where he stood. He set Granger down on her feet and grabbed her arm, pulling her along.
“You shouldn’t have been at that club during your heat. Who’s going to take care of you now? The hairball?” Draco muttered under his breath.
Granger shot him a confused look “What are you talking about Malfoy?” she glared at him, “I'm not an animal, I don’t need to be coddled by you, post-shag. And how do you even know which loft is mine?”
“It's obvious”, he growled, “ I could spot that stupid orange cat anywhere”. As he led them to her front steps. He realized Granger’s hand was now on his front, running up and down his chest.
He gave her a pointed look and cleared his throat. She looked over, and took in a sharp breath, pulling her hand back as if she had just been burned. Her face turned a shade of pink that Draco would never find endearing. No, never.
She turned away and quickly waved her wand to open the wards. They pushed through the large oak door. The space opened up into a long hallway. The entryway was full of clutter. She had a shoe stand that was overflowing, and above was a series of hooks, groaning with the weight of what seemed like every coat Granger had ever owned. On the left was an archway that he could already tell opened up into the kitchen. He could smell apple turnovers, and couldn’t stop himself from salivating.
On the right there was the living room. An oversized pink velvet couch took up most of the space. A large floor to ceiling bookcase adorned the far wall, filled with enough books to make the shelves warp and bend. The rest of the books that didn’t fit on the shelves were strewn about the room, in piles on the floor, on the end tables and even the couch. It appeared as though there was just enough room for Granger to fit her tiny frame in the space between the books at each end of the couch. ‘ Gods, Granger’ , thought Draco, appalled but not surprised. At the end of the hallway was a staircase leading up.
The hallway was filled with picture frames, some moving, some not. He saw a large one of a man and woman, with a small, curly haired girl. The woman had the same curly hair except blonde. The man next to her had brown hair that matched the daughter. Below was a moving photo of Granger with the Chosen one and the Weasel. They were all dressed up, clearly at a wedding for one of the many in the Weasley clan.
Granger tumbled into the living room, shoving the books from the plush couch to the floor and quickly pushed off her shoes. She flopped down, struggling with the confines of her dress. She pulled the hem up to her chest, the sheen of sweat glistening in the dim light from the hallway. The dress was up over the head now, obscuring her mass of curls but unleashing a new wave of pheromones.
“Wait wait wait! Granger!” Draco shrieked, putting his hands up as if begging her to stop . “Don’t you have an alpha partner you normally do this with?!” he pressed. “I didn’t sign up for this, I just wanted to dance”. He let out a sigh, dropping his head down in defeat.
She finally untangled herself from the fabric around her head and threw it to the floor. “Do what with who Malfoy …” She said his name like a curse. “’m fine, s’just a lil hot,” she slurred, her words running together.
“Granger, listen to me, I need you to focus. Who do you normally go to when you go into heat? I know you are somewhat smart but even you can’t handle this on your own.” he pleaded. He wanted to literally shake some sense into her but he knew if he touched her there may be no turning back for either of them. Granger laid sprawled on the couch, one leg slung over the back, the other dangling to the floor. She was breathing heavily, her hair a crown around her face. The subtle smell of caramel apples emanating from her rivaled the apple turnovers in the next room. Draco’s mouth watered at the sight of the defenseless omega in front of him. He took a step forward. His path was suddenly blocked by the child sized orange monstrosity crouched in a protective stance, as if warning Draco from coming any closer to the witch.
Draco spun on his heels and headed to the kitchen. It was unsurprisingly just as cluttered as the living room. He saw a tray of turnovers on the top of the stove, the remnants of the ingredients still strewn on the counter top. Beside the stove were more books. What a surprise he thought to himself. Though these all had titles about food. He accioed a glass and quickly filled it with water. He strode toward the small window facing the street, pushing it open to let in the cool night air and hopefully dilute the pheromones in the house. He took a long gulp of the water, trying to steady himself, then refilled the glass.
After a deep breath Draco hurried out of the kitchen to find Granger but as he stood in the archway of the living room he found it empty. “Ohhh noo”, he groaned slowly. In a few steps he threw open the front door, looking frantically back and forth, but saw no sign of Granger.
Draco slammed the glass onto the side table. “ Fuck ” he screamed under his breath tangling his hands in his hair. “I cannot be responsible for losing the Golden Girl. People hate me enough already.” he said in a panic. Draco glanced up and saw her mutt of a cat staring him down from the foot of the stairs. Then it lightly pranced up the steps. Draco followed quickly behind, taking it two steps at a time. At the top of the landing he saw her lacy purple bra strewn on the floor, with the matching set of knickers farther down in front of a slightly cracked door.
Draco crept closer and tentatively pushed the door open. He saw a naked Granger laying on the bed, with some kind of rectangular Muggle device in her hands. Her fingers were flying furiously over the object, Granger’s face growing more and more frustrated before she finally flung the object across the bed, losing it among the pyramid of pillows.
He quickly shielded his eyes, covering his mouth and nose with the collar of his shirt. “Ah, erm, Granger… wh-what are you doing?” he stammered nervously. Sure, he had just fucked the daylights out of her, but somehow this was too intimate, right? He glanced around the room and found a silky robe hanging from the back of the door. He snatched it off the hook, muttered a cooling charm over it, and tossed it to Granger’s prone body. It fluttered and settled over her, the silk fabric emphasizing the curves of her body. The robe tamped down the strength of the pheromones and Draco dropped his shirt from his face. He watched Granger’s ragged breathing steady as she drank in the coolness from the robe. His look softened and his chest fluttered as the omega in front of him calmed, appearing comforted by his actions. Under different circumstances, with a different omega, he would throw caution to the wind and dive in, but not with Granger, never with Granger. Right?
Suddenly there was a clamoring downstairs with the familiar sound of the floo opening in the fireplace.
“Oi Mione! Wheeerre aree yoouu? You have some ‘splainin to do.” they heard in a sing-songy voice. Granger’s head perked up, she jumped off the bed and skipped down the hall and stairs. ‘ Oh shit shit shit’ thought Draco, ‘ what now?’. He quickly trailed behind, grabbing her discarded wand off her surprisingly organized nightstand, casting a spell to wrap the robe around the naked woman, probation be damned.
Draco emerged from the bottom of the stairwell to see the robe cinch itself together. “Fred, you’re hereeee~” Granger sang, arms wide and skipping toward the person crouched down in the foray, the damn cat purring against them. One of the Weasel twins glanced up from petting the cat. Draco felt a twinge of … jealousy? Why should he care what or who Granger’s little monster warmed up to? He banished the thought as the red head leapt to his feet, bounding down the hallway toward Draco and pushing Granger behind him in one motion, his wand drawn.
“What are you doing here, Death Eater?” he jeered at Draco. Draco quickly shot his hands up in the air in defense.
“Whoa whoa whoa, mate, calm down, I’m just trying to help her. She seems to have no idea what she is” Draco sputtered.
“What she is?!” Fred spat in confusion. “She is Hermione Fucking Granger and you better step off.” He bared his teeth, still blocking Granger from Draco.
“Oh you’re a fanboy now, Weasley? Should have known.” Draco spouted, one eyebrow raised in a mocking sneer.
Fred’s face flushed red, matching the shade of the mop on his head. He opened and closed his mouth, like a goldfish searching for food, his voice caught in this throat.
“Look Freddy , Granger is clearly an omega. I can’t stay around much longer unless she wants me to start shagging her sensele-.”
Draco was caught off by a sudden yelp. Fred jumped up in surprise as Granger appeared under his arm, wriggling herself to stand in front of him. She dragged her nose along Fred’s side, to his chest and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. She raised her head to look at Fred through her lashes as Fred looked back, horrified. She gave a mischievous giggle and wiggled her eyebrows at him. A subtle aroma of vanilla and warm apples blossomed. Draco flinched, the pang of not-jealousy returning. Why was she looking at that beta with those eyes? He desperately wanted her to turn his way. The glands on his neck itched, the familiar sensation of releasing pheromones snapping him out of his reverie. He blinked away his fantasies and looked up. Granger was sniffing the air and then her eyes were locked on him, her pupils blown to the edges of her irises.
“She needs some suppressants, and quickly. I can run to my shop and throw some together, just keep her occupied”
“How do I know you aren’t gonna make something to make it worse, or make her want you?” Fred responded. “After all, I found her here all alone with you ”.
“Well what else do you want to do?” Draco threw his hands in the air, as if admitting defeat. “Because you know we can’t just leave her here with nothing” Draco countered back, exasperated. “And why are you even here?”
Fred looked to the side, annoyed. “She texted me on the little Muggle phone she gave me last Christmas. It didn’t make any sense so I figured she was just drunk from the club”.
Draco suddenly remembered Granger with that weird Muggle thing in her hand upstairs. He didn’t want to admit it but it was kind of a relief to see someone else here. He had been around omegas before but it usually wasn’t quite like this. And he had been prepared in the past.
“Okay I think I can throw something together at my shop. Can you just keep her safe until get back?” Draco said in a hurry.
“Better than you could!” Fred snapped back, baring his teeth again.
Draco rolled his eyes and spun to walk to the fireplace “Many thanks” he replied over his shoulder in a mocking voice. He quickly strolled over, grabbed a handful of floo powder and huffed “The Hollow”.
He rushed out of the fireplace without missing a beat. He stepped into his shop, the walls lined with rows of cauldrons giving the illusion that the shop was smaller, cozier. The cauldrons were all different sizes and in some stage or another of brewing various potions, some bubbling or simmering, others cooling and waiting to be bottled. The ceiling was covered by all sorts of dried plants hanging on twine. He had shelves and shelves of glass containers and potion jars. They were filled with a range of ingredients, some rare and expensive. He loved his shop; he would probably never admit it to his friends, but it was a place where he felt the most content.
Quickly and with practiced ease, Draco stepped in front of an empty cauldron and accioed all the necessary ingredients to the large black vessel. His mother had taught him how to make omega suppressants, no doubt in the hopes that Draco would one day have an omega of his own to cherish. Fat chance of that happening now. He brushed the thought aside to concentrate on the task at hand. The cauldron lit up and bubbled, and Draco cast a spell to hurry the process along. He did not want to leave Granger in the hands of that Weasley twin much longer, not in her state, not knowing what she might try with that beta. Why would she concern herself with a beta anyway, Draco was standing right there in the foray, the better option of the two blindingly clear. In his eyes, anyway. Billows of smoke from the cauldron choked out Draco’s air, and he snapped his head back to focus. He felt his face flush, from the heat of the cauldron and nothing else, of course. He hurriedly bottled the suppressants, pocketed them, and made his way back to the floo.
In a flash Draco was back in Granger’s living room. The mongrel was waiting for him, perched on the back of the large couch, its tail twitching back and forth. It was glaring at Draco, as if he had taken too long.
“Give me a break, I had to brew it up” he muttered to himself but mostly to the cat. Draco didn’t need to call out her name, he could hear Granger banging around in the kitchen. He rushed into the room to see Granger, thankfully still in the robe, her head in the freezer.
She closed the door with her elbow, a glass full of ice in hand. The cooling charm was starting to wear off and he was once again assaulted with the erotic scent of vanilla and cinnamon. She glanced over and looked him up and down, as if she was undressing him with her eyes, then tip-toed over. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she whispered into his ear “there you are big boy” before lightly biting his earlobe.
Draco swallowed hard and with his hands on her waist quickly pushed her away. He could feel the Weasley twin staring daggers at him. He almost forgot there was another person in the room. Granger’s pheromones lured him in and blocked everything from his senses besides the omega in front of him. He felt her hands slide down his arms to his waist. She tugged on his belt loops to pull him closer, grinding against him. Her eyes went wide, her hands fumbling against the bulge of his pants.
“Is this your wand or are you just happy to see me, Draco ?” she said with a sly smile.
Draco felt his cheeks warm, but she reminded him of the reason he was there. He grabbed the bottle of suppressants from his pocket and shoved them into Granger’s chest, slightly exposed from the loosely tied robe.
“Take this,” Draco barked, turning his face away. He caught sight of Fred before they each spun around, cheeks a deep shade of crimson.
Granger tipped the potion into her mouth, winking at him at the same time. He stared at her face as she finished the vial. Her pupils were blown but he could see the darkness receding as the potion took effect. Full realization hit. She glanced up at him and her mouth dropped in shock as she took in the scene. She looked down at her barely covered body, dressed in the flimsy robe. Her face turned crimson and she yelled “bloody hell! What happened?!” as her memories came back to her.
“Well Granger” he drawled, “a gentleman doesn’t fuck and tell”. He knew that was the wrong tactic when her brows furrowed in fury, she clutched her robe tightly to her body, and slapped him across the face. Head to the side, Draco was in a daze, partly because of the scents surrounding him and from the hit he just took. That wasn’t something that would turn him on. No… not ever. Especially by Granger .
Fred spun around, marched up to Draco and stood directly in front of face. “You’ve done what you came here for, and then some,” he spat. “It’s time you take your leave, Malfoy.”
Draco glared at Fred, pulling back a sneer. “Just make sure she takes the suppressants every 12 hours,” he demanded “Or she will go back to being a fumbling flirt”.
He tossed a few extra vials of the potion at Fred, chuckling dryly when the Weasley nearly doubled over trying to catch them. ‘ So much for the reflexes of a quidditch player,’ Draco mused. He rolled his eyes as he gave a half hearted salute and a less than encouraging “Good luck.” He turned toward the archway of the kitchen, sauntering to the door. Just as he was crossing the threshold, he accioed a handful of apple turnovers, popping his head back in the foray to glance at Fred and Granger, still in the kitchen.
“For my time here this evening. This was pleasant, let’s not do it again, shall we?” He clicked his tongue and winked, noticing the flush creeping up the witch’s face. He hummed to himself as he descended the steps of the townhouse to the street, enjoying the fresh night air and delicious apple pastry.
“So the Golden girl is an omega, huh?”